


The Awakening

by Crows_and_Questions



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Batman - Freeform, Childhood Trauma, DC comics - Freeform, Detective, Gotham, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Gotham, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Scarecrow - Freeform, Upbringing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_and_Questions/pseuds/Crows_and_Questions
Summary: The evolution of Edward Nigma into the Riddler.





	The Awakening

It all started one October evening... the twenty-third, the day he was born. A surprise to both his mother and father. For couples who have been together for years on end, children become a product of creation or, at the very least, conversation. This was not the case for Jane and Edward, who gave birth to a little boy the morning of October twenty-third. 

Outraged, Jane left once she was permitted to by medical personnel. She wanted nothing to do with her child; so the baby was left in the care of the father: Edward. Ultimately, he named his son after him: Edward Nashton. The relationship between the two was practically nonexistent, and the tensions between them only escalated as the son grew up. 

 

6:24AM

His hand routinely reached for the alarm clock to silence it. Another day, he thought to himself. Remarkably, he slept rather well. His father did not return home last night, said he was going to a poker match with some co-workers. Edward didn't care either way--what his father was up to, so long as it didn't involve him. Rising up, he went through the motions of getting ready for school. 

School was a safe-haven. A place where he didn't have to constantly look over his shoulder or refrain from speaking his mind. He could truly be himself without fear of punishment.. for the most part. Regardless, it was better than home. Home reeked of cheap liquor and cigarettes, littered with empty bottles. It was unpleasant, and humiliating. It was the reason he never brought friends over, offer to host study nights. Even more-so, he would walk an extra block on his way home, just so his friends would not see where he lived. 

On the outside, it was a simple establishment. White paneling, shingled hip roof. A garage door, which was broken at the moment, had three windows at the top and was made of some cheap wood with a dark stain. The front door was deep red, and in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. The screened door in front of it helped shield the condition of it. The door sat in front of a set of stairs; there was no porch. There wasn't much of a front yard, just a plot of grass that stretched from the edge of the driveway to the neighbor's privacy fence. Edward was convinced that they didn't have a back yard--since there was no door leading to such a place. 

It didn't seem like much, and would never earn a second glance; but if you torn down the shell and opened the doors.. there was more than meets the eye. A story waiting to be told, and a secret desperately trying to remain hidden. That secret was embedded in Edward's mind; it's evidence scattered across his home and body. 

Rinsing his mouth with mouthwash, Edward combed his thick red curls as neatly as possible. In the winter, his hair changed from it's reddish brown look to a mass of red curls. His heritage was evident--Irish and Scottish lineage. He assumed this was in association with his father's side, considering...

Most of the time, he didn't think about his mother. His mother was never involved in his life, and clearly did not want to be. Due to that, Edward found it best to keep the thought of her out of his mind. Although sometimes, he would fantasize a life with her. Imagining how great and spectacular it would be, full of adventure and nurture. Pondering how better of he would have been had she stuck around or simply taken him with her. Nevertheless, those dreams fade and he's left with the painful realization that that day will never come. The dawning moment of abandonment that his mother bestowed upon him.

It was hard to say, he was better off without her, but.. how is he to know it is? it wouldn't? Those are questions he'll never have the chance to answer. Not that an answer would truly mean anything, he was sixteen years old. He had gone this long without her, why would he want her now? It would be juvenile to pray for something such as that. 

Spitting, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then transferred that to the side of his jeans. He wore a pair of hand-me-down jeans, his scoffed black vans, and a long sleeve flannel that was much too big for his skinny frame--but he had to make do with what he had. Most of his clothes were just passed down to him by his dad, who rarely spent a dime on clothes for his son. It was "easier" to give him a shirt three times his size, shoes he had had for the past two years, and jeans that... well that was the only thing he'd get, if you consider "Good Will" clothing new. 

Making his way into the kitchen, Edward grabbed the last apple sitting in the bowl on the counter. It was a special skill he had acquired, taking the cafeteria's fruit so he'd have something to eat for breakfast the next morning. Apple's were easily his favorite fruit, and you know what they say, an apple a day keeps the doctor away, which is precisely what he hoped since he didn't have health insurance. 

The kitchen opened up to the living room, both of which were rather small. The front door sat in the kitchen, giving the whole front of the house an open concept. To the right of the living room in the hallway was the door to Edward's room, completely exposed. The hallway didn't truly start until you got past Edward's room. On the left was the bathroom and at the very end of the hall was his dad's room (which had its own bathroom, thank goodness). A small house, something you would think would easy to keep clean, but as stated before... it looked like a train wreck. 

Consequently, that meant it was up to Edward to tackle the task when he got home from school. Returning to his bedroom, he gathered his belongings in his backpack and headed out the door to school.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to get another chapter in by this weekend. It'll be longer, I swear.


End file.
